


Claimed

by Fuinixe



Category: Glee
Genre: "mentoring", Abuse, Angst, Bondage, Cheesy title, Dalton Academy, Hazing, Kink Meme, M/M, Season/Series 02, dark!Blaine, dubcon, noncon, screw Ryan Murphy, when Blaine was older than Kurt and things still made sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-01
Updated: 2011-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:56:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuinixe/pseuds/Fuinixe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a "mentoring program" at Dalton. To save Kurt from being "mentored" by one of the many Dalton upperclassmen who lusts after Kurt, Blaine offers to do it himself. Original kink meme prompt (from December 2010!) in the notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Claimed

Kurt didn’t notice Rob until the end of his third math class at Dalton. The upperclassman sat in the back of the room against the same wall as the door to the hallway. It was his last class of the day, so Kurt stayed behind to add some finishing touches to his notes before packing up.

“Hey,” the older boy said, and Kurt jumped a little. He’d thought he was alone, but he quickly recovered, smiling and looking up at him. The boy was tall, thick, and average-looking, with brown hair. He reminded Kurt of a football player, except for his intelligent eyes. _Does Dalton even have a football team? They must, right? And they’re probably smart, not like McKinley._

“Hello.”

“Sorry, did I scare you?”

“No,” Kurt shook his head quickly. “Just startled.”

“Welcome to Dalton. My name is Robert Wells, but most people call me Rob. You can call me sir.” Kurt smiled at the joke and reached out to shake his hand.

“I’m Kurt. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rob.”

“-—Sir,” the boy corrected him. He held on to Kurt’s hand for a little too long, after Kurt had relaxed his grip, and Kurt’s stomach twisted before Rob let go. “I notice you’re in a math class a couple grades up from where most sophomores are. I’d like to help you study.”

Kurt hesitated, thinking of the difficult assignment their teacher had just given them and the hours it would take him to work out, but his potential tutor made him uncomfortable. “Thank you for offering, but I’m okay so far. Give me a couple more weeks and I’ll be flailing, I’m sure.” He smiled disingenuously again, suddenly eager to leave the room. He turned his attention to his notes, shoving them into his binder, and then bent down and sideways to reach for his book bag. The feet in front of his desk hadn’t moved. Kurt’s throat closed up a little. _I didn't come here for this._

“Maybe I can help you with something else, then.”

Kurt dropped his binder, textbook, and pencil into his bag and stood up hurriedly, avoiding eye contact with Rob. “I appreciate it, really, but all my classes are manageable so far. Thanks, though.” He swung his book bag over his shoulder and made for the door, but Rob moved with him.

“I’m glad your classes aren’t giving you trouble. What about everything else? Are you making friends, learning the rules?” Kurt steeled himself and looked up at his face, which was still smiling gently. _He just wants to help. Don’t be rude._

“Yep, I think so.” The after-class clamor had all but vanished from the hallway. He looked up at the clock above the white board and walked toward it, squinting, as a pretense for going around Rob. “Oh, it’s late. I’m supposed to meet some people before dinner. I’ll see you on Thursday!” Kurt edged toward the door, facing Rob, fake smile still in place.

“It doesn’t seem like it. You’ve broken a few rules.”

Kurt stopped, curious, and furrowed his brows. “Really? What did I do?”

Kurt’s pause was all the older boy needed for his long legs to put him once again between Kurt and the door. “You’re not showing proper respect,” he replied calmly.

Kurt felt sick. “Did I say something wrong to Ms. Francisco?” he asked, fairly certain that Rob wasn’t talking about their instructor.

“No. I’m talking about this. Right now. You’re trying to leave, but I’m not done with the conversation. And you haven’t called me ‘sir’ once.” Rob reached his arm out behind them and pushed the door shut.

Kurt’s eyes widened. His smile faltered and fell away. He could not wait to get out of this room. “I apologize. I’m not used to those sorts of customs. Thank you for…for drawing my attention to it.” Rob raised an eyebrow. “Sir.”

Rob gave him a genuine smile at that, and for a second Kurt thought they were done, that Rob would open the door and Kurt would be free. “Please sit down, Kurt.” Kurt sighed audibly and dropped his bag next to the nearest chair and slid into it. When he looked back up at the senior, there was a predatory glint to his eyes that he hadn’t noticed before. Rob watched Kurt lick his lips nervously before meeting his gaze. “Everybody needs guidance. We have a tradition here at Dalton for freshmen and new students. They all get a mentor when they start here. The seniors, and sometimes a few juniors, are responsible for the program. Instead of the school administration matching students together, the mentors get to choose their partner.” Kurt felt surprised that he hadn’t heard of the program before.

“The mentors are responsible for making sure their partners get good grades and learn all the rules, whether they’re written down or not. But the benefits don’t go just one way.” Rob paused and cocked his head to the side, examining Kurt for a moment. “Would you please stand up, Kurt, and stand in front of me?” Kurt stood, uncertainly, wordlessly. He wasn’t sure he could talk at this point. He didn’t really want to talk. He just wanted to leave.

Slowly, Rob walked a circle around him. Kurt could feel his eyes on his shoulders, legs, and butt. He talked to himself to keep from panicking. _He hasn’t even touched you. He’s all talk. You survived Karofsky, so this is nothing. In a few minutes you’ll be out of this room and you’ll go and tell Blaine and then the two of you will go to the dean and this jerk will be kicked out._

Rob faced him again with his perverse, calm smile. “Kurt, as you’ve probably figured out by now, I’m claiming you. I’m going to be your mentor.” He laughed at Kurt’s expression. “Don’t look so alarmed. I’ll be very gentle. Relatively.” He laughed again. He was clearly enjoying his power trip. “I’ll be better than most of the guys who’ve been eyeing you, anyway.” Kurt looked bewildered. “You haven’t noticed? You have over half the seniors desperate to claim you. You’re just too pretty. Almost as good as a girl, and we don’t have any of those.” A stab of fear struck Kurt and he bolted for the door, but before he could twist the knob open, the door swung in on its own. Blaine stood in the doorway and relief flooded Kurt.

The junior glanced from Kurt’s white face to Rob’s flushed one and then back to Kurt. He blinked once, met Rob’s eyes and said, “Sorry to disappoint you, Rob, but I already claimed him.”

Rob shook his head. “No, Blaine. I outrank you. Juniors get to pick last, not first.”

Blaine stepped into the room and looked at Kurt. “Get your bag, Kurt. We have things to take care of.” Holding the door open for Kurt, he looked back at Rob. “Right, that’s how things work, normally. But I’m not a normal junior. And—you owe me a favor.” This last, he said with great finality, and swept Kurt out the door before him, closing it firmly behind them. He strode quickly to the end of the hallway. As badly as Kurt wanted to talk to Blaine, he was no less eager to get as far away as possible. They walked in sync out the East entrance and practically flew down the steps. A blast of cold wind hit Kurt and he shivered, violently—-his coat was still in his book bag. Blaine took his bag from him, handed him his coat, and slung the strap over his own shoulder without breaking stride. Kurt pulled on his coat, zipped it up, and shoved his hands into his pockets. He stared at the ground all the way to the dormitories. He felt confused and a little embarrassed, but all his other bad emotions had been replaced with a little song of joy. _Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, yay Blaine, thank you Blaine, Blaine Blaine Blaine!_

The wall of warm air that hit Kurt when Blaine opened the door for him had him unzipping his coat immediately. They hustled up two flights of stairs to Blaine’s room. Kurt was grateful that Blaine let him in without a question; he did not want to go back to his room alone.

He flopped onto Blaine’s bed, who set down Kurt’s book bag next to his own. When their eyes met, Kurt was startled to find that Blaine was frowning severely.

“I’m sorry you had to find out like that, Kurt. I was planning on telling you this weekend after you’d settled in a little more. The seniors usually take at least a couple weeks to assess the new students.”

“Y-—you’re joking.” Blaine shook his head. “You have a _zero tolerance_ harassment policy! If that isn’t harassment, I don’t know what is!”

“It doesn’t apply to new students, Kurt. Not for your very first trimester. You have to learn the rules first. Once you fit in, harassment isn’t even an issue.”

Kurt pressed his lips together. There was a long silence. “So. You’re claiming me?”

“Yes, although I won’t force you to choose me.”

“If I have to have a—- _mentor_ —-” Kurt leaned on the word sarcastically, “then who else would I choose?” Blaine did not answer. “So if you claim me, nobody else will try to…mentor me?” Blaine nodded. Kurt sighed. “Okay, well, that sounds easy enough. Besides, can’t you just pretend? Not the homework part, just…” Kurt trailed off. “Anything else the relationship entails,” he finished delicately.

Blaine did not answer immediately, and when he did, he gazed steadily into Kurt’s eyes. “No, Kurt. Everyone will know. Everyone can tell. You won’t be safe unless I claim you completely.”

Kurt’s stomach tightened once more, but in a far more pleasant way than it had in the classroom with Rob. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but the idea of Blaine claiming him was not altogether unpleasant. “I don’t like it.”

“It’s necessary. And you’ll be safe. Nobody will threaten you or touch you, besides me.” Kurt attempted to conceal a shiver. “It’s only for a trimester. Shorter, if you’re a quick student.” Kurt blushed.

“I…no. No, no. I’d rather go back to McKinley.”

“That’s your choice, Kurt. But…and I hate to put it this way, I really do, but at whose mercy would you rather be? Karofsky’s, and any other Neanderthal who’s having a bad day? Or mine?”

Kurt sighed unhappily and stared out the window. The sky was dark already. Students traversed the lit and paved pathways below, most heading toward the mess hall. The choice didn’t warrant a second’s thought, if those were his options. “Yours,” he answered thickly.

Blaine seemed to straighten up. “We should do this now. I don’t want you out there, unprotected, again.” Kurt nodded slowly. “We can grab something to eat later.” Blaine locked the door and kneeled on the floor, pushing Kurt’s coat to fill in the gap below the door.

 _He’s expecting noise._ For what felt like the hundredth time that evening, Kurt’s heart rate sped up. Blaine stood and took a small key out of his pocket. He approached the large bed stand by Kurt and crouched to unlock the lowest drawer. Kurt realized he was excited, and not in a bad way. Blaine drew a black leather collar out of the drawer and sat down on the bed beside Kurt. The feeling of the heat of Blaine’s body and the bed dipping under his weight sent a rush of blood to Kurt’s groin.

“This was mine.” Blaine held the round silver tag on the collar up for Kurt to see “Blaine” engraved on it. “Take off your shirt and jacket.”

Kurt stood up too eagerly. He compensated by turning away from Blaine and undressing slowly, as if in hesitation. He kept reminding himself that he was being forced into this, that he didn’t want to do this. It was becoming difficult to remember. He laid his blazer and tie over the top of Blaine’s desk chair, then unbuttoned his shirt deliberately and put it on the pile. Before he had time to turn around, Blaine ordered him to remove his undershirt as well, which he did hastily. He turned and Blaine stood up to face him, collar in hand. Kurt tried to concentrate on Blaine and his beautiful face to distract himself from his own self-consciousness. His pale body did not feel adequate for someone like Blaine. His hands crept up to cover his chest.

“No,” Blaine ordered firmly. “Come here.” Kurt walked forward until he could feel Blaine’s breath on his face. He had to look down slightly to meet Blaine’s eyes. Blaine reached up to stroke Kurt’s light brown hair. Kurt's eyes fluttered closed. He felt Blaine’s fingers looping the collar around the back of his neck and sliding the clasp shut. He opened his eyes when the pressure around his neck continued. “Breathe in and then out,” Blaine commanded. After Kurt exhaled, Blaine tightened the collar so that it dug into Kurt’s flesh, and slid the clasp closed. Kurt made a sound of annoyance and reached up to loosen it. Blaine’s eyes darkened and he grabbed Kurt’s wrists, holding them down against his body.

Kurt began to protest. “Blaine, it’s too ti—-”

“Shut up, slave,” Blaine cut him off. “Say nothing unless I ask you a question.” Blaine rested his right hand on the back of Kurt’s neck, stroking the place where leather met skin with a finger. “You will address me as master.”

Kurt jerked away, suddenly reminded that he didn’t want to do this. “No—-” But before he could get any further, Blaine had pulled his hand back and slapped him, hard, across the face. Kurt almost fell onto the bed with the force of the blow. He tried to stand up straight, and Blaine grabbed his wrists again and twisted his arms behind his back. Blaine shoved the younger boy face first onto the bed, his pelvis against the edge of it. Blaine transferred both wrists to one hand and used the other to grab a length of twisted rope from the bed stand drawer. He pinned Kurt’s hips to the bed with one knee and swiftly tightened the loops of the rope around his wrists, pulling the ends hard so that Kurt’s wrists twisted against each other sideways so that even moving his fingers hurt. The pressure of Blaine’s knee digging into his butt had Kurt’s blood once more rushing away from his head and into his groin. His dick hardened against the bed and he moaned.

“Pull,” Blaine commanded from above, and Kurt tried uselessly to pull his hands out of the knots, which did not budge. Satisfied, Blaine stood up, and Kurt took the opportunity to hump the bed. “No.” Blaine rolled Kurt over onto his back and climbed onto the bed to straddle his abdomen. Kurt yearned to reach up and run his hands through his hair, which was steadily gaining freedom from the gel Blaine had used that morning. Two curls hung on his forehead, tantalizingly. Oh, how would it feel to grab him and kiss him as hard as he could? “What are you thinking?” When Kurt did not answer immediately, Blaine drew a hand back and slapped Kurt again, on the same cheek as before. Tears sprung to his eyes. “What are you thinking?”

“I wanna kiss you,” Kurt blurted out. Blaine backhanded him.

“What are you thinking, slave?”

“I wanna kiss you, master,” Kurt moaned, desperately. Blaine gripped his jaw with his hand and swooped down to bite his bottom lip—hard.

Kurt tried to swallow his cry of pain, but the collar cutting into his throat made it difficult. His Adam’s apple bobbed and he shuddered with fear of the next question.

“You should think only of pleasing me.” Blaine’s voice was different, deeper than usual. _That’s what danger sounds like,_ Kurt thought, half-delirious. “When I give you a command, you say ‘Yes, master.’ You should think only of pleasing me.”

Kurt averted his eyes. “Yes, master.”

“What was that?”

“Yes, master,” Kurt repeated, more clearly.

“Good boy.” Kurt felt his face, already stinging from Blaine’s slaps, burn with humiliation. “Close your eyes. Do not open them. I will know if you open them.”

“Yes, master.” Blaine got up off the bed and Kurt heard him moving around. He began to feel nervous about what Blaine could be doing. He seemed to be taking a long time. “I’ve been thinking,” Blaine said suddenly, from a place closer than Kurt expected. Hands tugged at his waistband and started unbuttoning his pants. Kurt smiled with hope and then tried to make up for it by squeezing his eyes shut more tightly. “How long were you in that classroom?”

Kurt couldn’t think straight. It had seemed like an hour, but that was impossible. “Maybe fifteen minutes? Master!” he added in a higher pitch.

“Fifteen minutes.” Blaine pulled Kurt’s pants down roughly. “What were you doing in there for fifteen minutes?” Kurt felt his shoes removed and heard them hit the opposite wall. Thump. Thump. Blaine pinched Kurt’s thigh and dug his short nails in, making Kurt whimper.

“I said. What. Were you doing. In there.”

“I don’t know, master! Notes. I was finishing my notes and packing up and Rob, um, stopped me and said things…”

“And you listened.” Blaine pulled Kurt’s pants free, and his socks along with them.

“Yeah-—I was being polite-—“

“Polite?” Blaine hissed. He sat down on the bed and placed a hand on Kurt’s collar. “Because you’re so polite to jerks who try to push you around?” he added with disbelief.

“He—-he wasn’t being a jerk at first-—“

Blaine’s hand tightened around Kurt’s throat and then released. “Oh, so he was nice to you, then? Did you like him? Roll over.”

Kurt flopped over awkwardly, his arms useless behind his back. “No master. No.” He had the feeling nothing he could say would help. Blaine stood up and Kurt heard the sound of clothes rustling, then the clinking sound of a belt buckle. Kurt’s fear tripled and he tried pointlessly to scramble away on his knees and shoulders, which cramped in painful protest at the frantic twisting.

“You liked him—-big tall senior, being nice. You probably thought, what a gentleman. You probably thought of sucking him off right there.”

“Blaine, no—-“ The crack of the belt against his skin wiped his brain momentarily. He stopped struggling. White stars burst against his eyelids. It felt like Blaine had broken the skin of his back. Was there blood?

“What did you call me?” Blaine brought the belt down again, this time across the backs of his thighs.

Kurt keened with pain. “I’m sorry, master, please.”

“Please what?” Blaine tore Kurt’s boxers off and crawled onto the bed.

“Please stop. I’m sorry.”

“No, Kurt. You wanted a man who wasn’t me. You need to be punished for that. Now, either keep it down, or I will gag you with these.” Kurt felt the cotton of his boxers dropped onto the side of his face.

Blaine got up, brandished the belt, and this time brought it against Kurt’s bare ass cheeks. Tears sprang to Kurt’s eyes. “Master, I’m sorry—-“ He struck him again. “Please.” Again. Kurt wiggled and strained against the ropes. I’m completely defenseless. Why did I let him tie me? Why did I agree to this? Again. Kurt felt like Blaine had poured gasoline down his back and then dropped a match. Again. “PLEASE! Please stop!” Kurt sobbed. “I’ll do anything!” He heard the belt hit the floor. Blaine laid down on the bed next to Kurt. Kurt could feel his hot breath against his face, could hear it harsh and jagged.

“Open your eyes, slave.” Kurt did. He looked blearily into Blaine’s eyes. His irises were the darkest he’d ever seen them, his face stony. “You can make it up to me. Don’t you want to make it up to me?” Kurt didn’t even remember for what he had to atone, but he nodded. “Good boy.” Blaine grabbed the collar at the back of Kurt’s neck and sat up, dragging Kurt along with him, all the way until Kurt slid off the bed and hit the floor. The carpet burn on his face and knees barely registered compared to the fire on his back. Blaine again dragged him by his collar until Kurt was kneeling between Blaine’s legs, which he noticed were bare. Kurt looked up, his eyes passing over Blaine’s naked groin as they traveled up to Blaine’s face. Understanding dawned, belatedly.

“I…I’ve never done this before,” Kurt croaked.

Blaine smiled benevolently. “That’s fine. I’ll make sure you get lots of practice. Just remember, no teeth.”

The misery blanketing Kurt started evaporating in spite of himself as soon as he brought his nose near Blaine’s crotch. He smelled delicious. Is my mouth watering? Seriously? He breathed deeply and darted out a tongue to lick Blaine’s sac. Yum. I guess I might as well enjoy it…right? Blaine was already semi-hard. Kurt dragged his tongue along the shaft, eliciting a groan from Blaine, and repeated it at a different angle, over and over until Blaine’s whole shaft was moist. Kurt swirled his tongue experimentally around the head of Blaine’s cock and then took the tip into his mouth and sucked lightly. Blaine flopped onto the bed and spread his legs further.

Kurt paused. Blaine’s hand was resting on his stomach, and Kurt longed to reach up and hold it, to feel connected. He wanted to be Blaine’s lover, not Blaine’s toy. He could barely feel his hands at this point. He wondered if Blaine would hold him after this was over. Kurt swallowed at the lump in his throat.

Blaine sat up and put his hand in Kurt’s hair. For a split second Kurt thought he was caressing him, and then his hand was pushing Kurt’s face forward.

“Okay, I guess I can’t look away and expect you to do as you’re told. That’s going to make things much harder for you. Now suck me.”

Kurt took a deep breath and opened wide to take Blaine’s cock into his mouth. He wanted this to be over with. He wanted this to be a screwed-up dream. He sucked a little, and the pressure on the back of his head lightened but didn’t vanish. He slowly went further down until he gagged and pulled back. He bobbed his head up and down, twisting his neck a little so that his lips rotated around the shaft simultaneously. Blaine moaned. Kurt sped up his pace, but the strain was getting to his neck. He didn’t dare try to stop. Instead, Kurt pushed forward and tried to relax his throat until Blaine’s entire dick was covered and his pubic hairs were tickling Kurt’s nose. He pulled back and glanced up at Blaine’s face. Blaine’s eyes were heavy lidded, staring down at him, and his lips were slightly parted. The abject lust was gratifying. Kurt pushed down and let the head of Blaine’s cock bump against the back of his throat and keep going, then pulled up faster, keeping his lips sealed around Blaine’s shaft. Blaine was breathing heavily. Kurt sucked around the head and then dipped down and up in little, fast motions. He was making obscene wet noises and spit was getting everywhere, seeping out both corners of his mouth, but Blaine didn’t seem to mind.

Blaine’s breathing stuttered. “Kurt—-Kurt—-oh god-—” and Kurt tasted Blaine’s salty cum as it shot out onto his tongue. It took him several swallows to get it all. It didn’t taste bad, it was just…intimate. And Kurt felt physically and emotionally exhausted. He laid his head on Blaine’s thigh, closed his eyes, and waited for his next orders.

Blaine finally recovered and pulled Kurt up by his armpits to sit on the bed next to him. It was only when he began untying Kurt’s wrists that Kurt realized that Blaine had not called him “slave” when he was coming. He had called out Kurt's name.

**Author's Note:**

> Original kink meme prompt: _Kurt hasn't been at Dalton long when he realizes that half the guys there want to jump him._
> 
>  
> 
> _One big jock-ish guy in particular won't leave him alone. He tells Kurt that it's normal for each of the new underclassmen to be "owned" by an upperclassmen, and that Kurt has to do what he says._
> 
>  
> 
> _Blaine walks in on this and states that Kurt's already been claimed - by him._
> 
>  
> 
> _After the other guy leaves, Blaine tells Kurt that he's going to take possession of him, for his own protection. Kurt should not be thrilled with this idea, no matter how much he likes Blaine, but he's more scared of actually being hurt by big guys like the one who was just manhandling him._
> 
>  
> 
> _Blaine takes Kurt back to his room to *officially* claim him as his own, and ends up getting really rough/possessive/scary._
> 
>  
> 
> _Bonus points: bondage, making Kurt wear a collar, some violence, like face-slapping, etc (humiliation/control)_


End file.
